


Strip Poker and Sensitive Skin

by lauraxtennant



Series: Ten/Rose Collection 2013 [8]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraxtennant/pseuds/lauraxtennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose realises she's been inadvertently causing the Doctor a little discomfort. Not the hurting kind of discomfort, though - more the frustratingly pleasurable kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strip Poker and Sensitive Skin

He never knew it would come to this. That he would come to this. Blimey. Nine hundred years of time and space, and he'd never anticipated that he'd ever, ever do this.

"So..." drawled Rose Tyler, eyes sparkling at him in obvious enjoyment at his predicament, "Looks like you're not as good at this as you boasted you were."

He huffed indignantly. "Actually, I'm just letting you win."

"Yeah, of course," she agreed, twirling a poker chip between her fingers. Her gaze slipped from his to glance at his bare chest with a mischievous grin. "You wear a lot of layers, though, so I'm thinking that the fact I've got you half naked already is actually a real testament to my poker playing abilities."

He folded his arms. "You just wait," he proclaimed, in a low growl. "We'll see who'll have the last laugh, eh? When you have to forfeit every last inch of the clothing you're wearing."

"Promises, promises. Anyway, Doctor, even if that could possibly happen, I don't think you'd be laughing," she teased, leaning forwards over the kitchen table, an eyebrow raised. He avoided her gaze and tried not to blush or say anything embarrassing, simply giving a little 'hmph' noise under his breath. "So, let's see. You've lost your shoes, socks, jacket, shirt, shirt, and another shirt — seriously, why so many shirts?" she briefly questioned.

"I'm..." He coughed and quietly mumbled, "Sensitive."

And just like that her brief question turned into an interesting topic for discussion.

Rose laughed. "What did you just say?"

He rolled his eyes and made a show of looking extremely irritated with her. "I said I'm sensitive, all right? This...body, it's...it's..." He met her laughing eyes and faltered for a moment. "It's...we hug a lot, and I..."

"And you what?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He cleared his throat. "Nothing. Let's carry on with the game."

"Oh no, you can't change the subject that easily." She reached her arm forward towards him and he scooted backwards on his chair and hit the kitchen wall with his head.

"Oww! Look what you made me do now," he grumbled, rubbing his poor head.

"Why did you flinch?" she asked, half-confused, half-amused. "I was only going to - " Her eyes widened. "What, so are you saying if we hugged with you wearing less clothes, or...let's say, no clothes, then you'd...what? Itch, or something?"

He stared at the floor. "One way of putting it."

"I don't understand - "

"No, well you wouldn't, would you," he snapped. He stood up and strode over to the kettle, filling it with water and switching it on. He opened the cupboard in an overly harsh move and quickly took out their favourite mugs, putting them down on the counter with more force than strictly necessary. Then he braced his hands on the edge of the countertop, still facing away from Rose, breathing heavily.

She viewed upon this with raised eyebrows, completely taken aback by his jerky, angry movements. "Er, Doctor?"

"What?" he muttered.

She eyed his tense back and shoulders and started to worry. "Are you feeling okay?" She stood up and took a step towards him. She literally heard him stop breathing, then, which caused her to worry even more, so she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder to get him to turn around. She wasn't quite expecting him to jump away from her and knock her mug flying to the floor as he did so.

They both stood still, and silently stared at the shards of her favourite mug on the floor.

"I broke your mug," he whispered.

She shook her head. "It's okay. Least it didn't have tea in it. I'll clear it up -"

"No," he murmured, crouching down and picking up the pieces himself. "I'll do it."

She watched him, her brow furrowed at the forlorn look on his face. "Look, it doesn't matter, it's just a mug," she told him earnestly.

"Yes it does matter!" he exclaimed as he stood back up and placed the pieces on the counter. "It's your favourite. And it matches mine, and...and I'm sorry. But I'll fix it, I promise," he said, quieter this time.

"Doctor, you don't have to - "

"Yes I do." The kettle had boiled and he glanced at it.

"Later, though, yeah? Just use a different one for me for now - "

He shook his head sagely. "It'll taste different. You can share mine."

"That'll taste different too," she pointed out, "Cos you have about fifteen sugars in yours."

He rolled his eyes, his lips twitching. "That's a complete exaggeration, Rose Tyler. I only have four."

"Only!" she laughed, bumping his shoulder with hers unthinkingly. He went rigid again and she noticed. "Look, will you just tell me what's going on? Why are you suddenly going all weird on me? I've lived with you for, what? Must be nearly two years - and not once have you ever flinched away from my hugs or whatever, so - "

"Wasn't ever shirtless in front of you before though, was I?" He poured the hot water into his mug, dropped in a tea bag, and spooned in the sugar, while Rose got the milk out and poured that in for him. She handed him a teaspoon and he twirled it around in his mug before lifting out the tea bag and depositing it unceremoniously onto the countertop. He turned around and sat back down at the table, scooting his chair forward. Rose resumed her place opposite him and regarded him with a thoughtful expression as he inhaled the steam coming from his mug with a pleased sigh. "Nothing like a good cup of - "

"Tactile," she interrupted.

"Pardon?"

"Since you changed — god, how long as it been now?"

"Seven months, five days, thirteen hours, your time," he supplied helpfully.

"Right," she nodded. "Well, in those seven months you've been very tactile. I mean, you held my hand before you regenerated, but you hold it a lot more now, for no real reason."

He swallowed hard. "Is that a problem?"

She offered him a warm smile. "No, of course it isn't."

"Good."

"And you kissed me. In Ancient Rome."

"That was an accident," he murmured sheepishly, tugging at his ear.

"Right," she smirked. "And...you cuddle now."

"I do not cuddle."

"Yes you do!" she laughed. "All the time! When we're watching films or reading or something, on the library sofa. You always cuddle me."

"No, you cuddle me," he insisted. He sniffed pointedly. "I just...let you."

"Okay, it's me sometimes, but mostly you initiate it. And it was you who began the tradition in the first place."

He tilted his head to the side, contemplative. "Really?"

"Really, really," she nodded, suppressing laughter. He was so daft.

"Oh." He gave her an odd look. "The cuddling isn't a problem, is it?"

"Nope," she replied, popping the 'p.'

"Good," he smiled, and took a sip of his drink.

"And you lick things constantly," she said next, and he choked a bit on his tea. "I mean, way back with the Sycorax when you tasted that blood - " She wrinkled her nose up. "I thought that was a one off, but it really wasn't. Back with the werewolf when you licked the wall? And that pot on Darake Four? Not to mention the mouldy rock on Veif. And - "

"All right, you've cited your evidence. Now tell me your point," interjected the Doctor impatiently.

"Touch, smell, taste, sound...granted, you need glasses now so your eyes aren't so good, but how comes your other senses are so heightened this time around?"

He took a swig of his tea to try and prolong the inevitability of having to explain this to her.

"Doctor?" she urged.

"Here, I promised you some tea," he tried to distract her, offering her his mug.

She rolled her eyes, took it from him, gulped a mouthful, pulled a disgusted face, and gave it back. "Well?"

He sighed when his distraction tactic didn't work. "Right. Well. This is going to be embarrassing and probably quite painful so I'm going to say it quickly to get it over with, like you humans tell kids to do with plasters."

"Okay," she said slowly. "I'm ready. Tell me."

"And I'll do that, right after we finish this game of poker," he amended, deciding to be a coward.

"Doctor!" Rose protested.

"I promise I'll tell you," he insisted. "Just...let's finish this first. Can you go easy on me though, 'cos I'm in actual abject fear of losing my trousers in the next five minutes."

"What, so you admit that I'm winning all on my own?" she grinned, her tongue peeking of the corner of her mouth.

His eyes lingered on that smile of hers for a few moments, and then he answered softly, "Yes. Apparently there are a lot of things you're better at than me."

She picked up her poker chips and sent him a flirty wink. "Definitely."

He looked down at his own paltry stack of chips and counted them fixatedly, so that he wouldn't try to launch himself across the table and kiss that playful, smug grin right off her face.

::

"So I've got a question for myself," murmured the Doctor. "Why in the universe did I think it would be a good idea to continue playing strip poker with the strip poker champion Rose Tyler? And...why in the universe were we sober whilst playing it? I should've made us a gin and tonic, not a cup of tea."

Rose giggled and jumped up from her chair to begin her joyous, adorable little victory jig. "Because you wanted to avoid revealing something about yourself," she answered him wisely. Then she let her eyes trail down his body. "Oh, but oops — you did that anyway!"

Her laughter was bordering on an evil cackle and he couldn't help but laugh with her because she was just so...Rose. "You won't tell anyone about this, will you?" he asked seriously.

"About what, Doctor?" she replied innocently. "The fact that I didn't have to remove any of my clothing apart from my socks and shoes, whilst you had to take away everything, including your dignity?"

"Yes, that," he answered, reaching for one of his shirts. "Except I didn't take off everything."

Rose snorted in amusement and began to clear up the poker set. "Only because I took mercy on you and ended the game before your pants ended up on the floor."

"That's true," he agreed. "Thanks."

"No problem." She glanced at him and saw that he was simply sitting there watching her with his shirt half-buttoned, still just in his boxer-briefs. "You gonna just sit there or get dressed and help me tidy up?"

"I'm going to just sit here," he answered honestly. He nervously tugged at his ear, and mumbled, "And maybe tell you something."

"Ooh, do I get to hear your big Time Lord secret, now?" she asked, excited. She sat on the table, looking down at him expectantly.

"I...I regenerated to save your life," he said quietly.

Her eyes softened. "I know."

"And..." he continued. "And I did that because I...well, because I...didn't want you to die, didn't want you to not be here anymore."

"I know," she repeated gently. His hand was on the table next to her and she gave it a squeeze.

"And as I regenerated, I was thinking about you," he confessed.

Her brow crinkled slightly. "Yeah?"

"Yes," he affirmed, a lump his throat. "And I was thinking about how much I...how much I didn't want to change into someone who you couldn't...be with, and - "

"What?"

He ignored her disbelieving interruption and ploughed on, "And I hoped - wished, really — that I could be...better, this time, better for you. Because I...I want..."

"What, Doctor? What do you want?"

He let out a regretful sigh. "I want you to want what I want," he deflected carefully.

She swallowed thickly. "And what do you want?"

"Um...well...things, and you see, the thing is, I've wanted these...things, for, well...for a very long time since you've been here with me, and - "

"Since I've been here?" she murmured, and he heard her heart beat speed up and hoped that was a good thing.

"Yes, and...well, suffice to say, these things, uh, involve you, therefore it would make sense that I'd want you to want them too, no fun if you didn't, after all, because then I'd just be left with a bunch of things I want but can't have, much like I used to think was the case, but then I changed, and looked...like this, and I thought, maybe, that you'd, that we'd...I mean, maybe we'd have eventually, if I hadn't have changed, anyway, but now it just seems like there would be a better, er, chance, because, well, we've become even closer, I reckon, recently, what with the, uh, cuddling and things, and, and, um."

He looked like he was going to hyperventilate. "Doctor, breathe," she told him, firmly gripping his shoulders and giving him a bit of a shake.

"Right, yes, good thing, breathing — although, I don't really have to worry too much, what with the respiratory bypass and all that - "

"Doctor!" Rose exclaimed in frustration. "Can you just, stop getting all anxious, stop rambling nonsense, and just tell me what you want!"

"Sex!" he blurted out. His eyes almost popped out of his head as he realised he literally just shouted that out loud. After all his careful dodging around the subject, he'd finally just...blurted it out. Without a proper explanation about exactly why he wanted it anyway. Sounding like some sort of...some sort of human male. Great. He made to stand up. "I should really fix your mug - "

"Sit back down right now," said Rose, in a shaky yet commanding tone, and he gulped and did as he was told. She exhaled roughly while he fidgeted in his chair. "Right. Could you, um...you could you say that again? I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Right, well, um...I didn't mean for it to sound like that, but you wouldn't let me explain, and I - " he cut himself off, shaking his head. "Oh, what the hell," he muttered, and stood up. Rose frowned, undoubtedly about to tell him to finish what he was saying before he fled, but the Doctor had no intention fleeing. Not anymore. In fact, he almost reached for her to pull her towards him - but then, he lost his nerve.

Instead, he started pacing.

Rose watched on, baffled, and prompted, "Doctor?"

"Yes." He ruffled his hair but said nothing further.

She thought he looked adorable, pacing the kitchen with hardly any clothes on and tousled hair. "Doctor," she repeated pointedly. "Explain away."

"You ought to know that this is...this is completely my own fault, because of how much I...er, you know." He coughed uncomfortably, and muttered, "Admire you." Her cheeks tinted a bit pink and he gave her a crooked smile. "No need to look so surprised, Rose Tyler. You know right well that you catch the eye of many a person in your travels through time and space."

She shrugged. "Didn't know I'd caught your eye."

"Of course you do," he frowned. "What, you think I just go around holding hands and cuddling and staring at everyone?"

"Staring?" she repeated, her mouth curving into a teasing grin.

"Yes, well, I hope you don't think of me as some sort of leering older man, because the truth of it is, Rose Tyler, is that for some inexplicable reason I just...I just...I just ache. In the most fantastic, terrible way. Every time your skin touches mine, even for just for an instant, I...well, like I said earlier. I'm sensitive. And I'm like that nowadays because of how much I physically need you. So, that's why I flinched earlier. Because when you touch my bare skin, my nerve endings go into overdrive, and the sensation is - " He let out a long, whoosh-y sort of breath. "Overwhelming."

Her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish for a few moments. Then she remembered something. "But I hold your hand all the time, and you don't go all tingly and weird then -" she started protest. At his Look, she made a small noise in the back of her throat, then muttered, "Oh."

"Yes. 'Oh,'" he agreed. "Simply holding your hand takes some impressive willpower of mine, I'll have you know. Have to suppress some very...un-Time-Lord-y thoughts..."

She made a noise instead of a word, and that noise was, "Guh."

He smiled somewhat shyly, then. "You should know, also, that this...sensation...is completely generated by you and only you. If anyone else touched my skin or held my hand, I wouldn't feel anything extraordinary. Only you can make feel like this, because it was you who I was..." he swallowed hard.

"Who you were what?" she whispered hoarsely.

He didn't answer her question or finish his sentence, simply moved onto something else. "And another thing," he said quietly. "I've grown so used to your presence, to your close proximity on the TARDIS, that I've become very, uh, finely attuned to you." He paused, worried how she would take his next revelation. "Please don't be angry with me — it's not my fault; I can't help it — but I...I can hear your heart racing from here, and I can sense that you've, that you're...I can sense your, um...pheromones, and seriously, Rose, being able to sense those things is just...havoc for my self control."

"You can — can sense my heart beating and my pheromones and stuff all the time?" she stuttered.

"Yes," he said. "A side effect of being a Time Lord in love, I think."

And just like that he'd said it.

They both went completely still, and both held their breath, utterly surprised at the way the words had just fallen from his lips like that.

Rose was the first to exhale, and she was also the first to move. She slid slowly from her perch on the kitchen table and walked over to him.

He looked down, suddenly remembering he was severely under-dressed. "Shall I put some clothes on?" he murmured to himself.

"Bit counter-productive, that," she pointed out.

"Yeah?" he squeaked.

"Yep. In fact, I think I should just..." Rose pulled her top over her head and threw it over her shoulder. "Keep you company," she finished softly. She undid the button of her jeans.

The Doctor gulped. "Rose?"

"Yeah?" she replied, easing down the zip.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking my jeans off," she informed him wisely, and did exactly that, stepping out of the denim fabric and kicking them behind her without a second thought.

"Why?"

She found it very amusing that his voice was steadily rising in pitch with each question he asked her. "Because I'm going to give you what you want," she shrugged.

His eyes widened. "You don't have to," he protested.

"But it's what I want, too," she said.

He thought his hearts might explode out of his chest, they were galloping so fast. "In that case - "

She smiled, and reached for his shirt, pushing it back off his shoulders and popping the few buttons he'd managed to refasten earlier. Then, she placed her hands on his chest, one directly over each of his hearts, and he shivered. She trailed her fingertips lightly across the dusting of hair on his chest, and he stumbled back, keeping himself upright with an iron grip on the counter behind him. "I feel as though I've got some sort of magic power," she whispered, starting to giggle.

"You do," he whispered back. "You always have."

She met his eyes, and they stared at one another for a few moments while they continued to whisper. "Are you really in love with me?"

He laughed softly. "Oh, Rose. How could anyone ever be in doubt of that?" He tilted his head to press his forehead against hers and shivered again. "You are...so wonderful." He nudged her nose with his playfully. "And so beautiful." He finally brought his hands to rest at her waist, delighted at the feel of her bare skin beneath his palms. "And you drive me absolutely mad with desire."

She pressed a brief kiss to his lips, then quickly pulled back, strangely bashful. He followed her movement to seal his mouth back to hers, and she smiled into the kiss. It started out tender and gentle, and then their impatience resurfaced, and soon their tongues were in each other's mouths, and their hands were in each other's hair, and they were pressing against one another as close as they could, stumbling towards the kitchen door.

They paused their snogging for a moment, fumbling with getting the door open, then the Doctor kissed his way down her neck, mumbling, "You taste magnificent." She giggled and pushed him backwards, looking for one of their bedrooms. The TARDIS had thoughtfully moved his bedroom just opposite the kitchen, and once they realised they both silently thanked her for her intuition and dove for the door.

Laughing together, they entered the room, and when Rose jumped onto his bed with a bounce and started removing her underwear, the Doctor grinned. 

"And there was me thinking I wasn't going to get to see the Queen of Poker lose her clothes this evening."


End file.
